But then, perhaps she did not know Sparky. Or was it young Captain Ramsey who had engineered the transformation? Be that as it may, as she entered the club, she looked Sparky up and down for a full ten seconds before she knew him.
“Sparky! You old rogue!” she exclaimed. “Why! You’re actually handsome! I’d like to—” She advanced toward him with shining eyes.
Blushing, Sparky backed away. “It says in the Bible,” he drawled, “that you should let your moderation appear before all men. You’re not looking so bad yourself,” he added in a low tone, “but, pardner, this is no sort of armor for a fightin’ fool. When do we eat?”
Colonel Mason led them to a table in the corner where the lights were subdued, and there they took their places, Mary, Sparky, Ramsey, and the Colonel.
The food, Mary discovered, was wonderful. “Lend-Lease?” she whispered to her father.
“Something like that,” he smiled. “However it gets here, it’s deserved. All the men you see here, British, French, or American, are on active duty. Most of them are fliers. Some have just returned from Tunisia where they have been on duty for long weeks. Half their squadron was shot down. Some are guarding the airways, as Captain Ramsey will be doing tomorrow. Almost every day some fine fellow fails to return—”
“But they seem so happy and cheerful.” Her eyes swept the large room filled with laughing, chattering men and their ladies.
“Certainly. What do you ask?” was the quick reply. “You just must believe in your luck and keep your sense of humor. You, who have come a long way, should know that.”
“Yes—” she agreed. “Yes, of course, I know it.”
Just then young Captain Ramsey claimed her attention. For the next half hour he held it. While the Colonel and Sparky were busy comparing notes on the performance of various types of airplanes, she and Ramsey talked and laughed as they compared notes on the lives they had lived before the war descended upon them.